


Up and Out

by rxcrcfllptrs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Kid Peter Parker, Minor Character Death, Pre-Iron Man 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 23:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxcrcfllptrs/pseuds/rxcrcfllptrs
Summary: Tony Stark gets the news of Mary Parker's death in the middle of a board meeting.He drowns his sorrows later in an amber liquid-filled glass, letting himself grieve for a friend he regrets not reconnecting with. For once, the adage “Stark men are made of iron” is a draw of strength rather of hindrance, steeling himself for a long night of research and reflection. He bucks up with a sniff, downs the last of his glass, and gets to work.





	Up and Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayWilder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/gifts).

> This is an extremely belated birthday gift to my friend Lily. I love you and I hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> For the record, I do not delight in the concept of fridging in media, not in the least. I know how this fic may come across as the contrary and I'm sorry if it does. However, I wanted to explore a universe where Richard Parker lives and what kind of effect Tony might have on both him and Peter, since it's usually Mary who lives in these kinds of fics (which I adore, don't get me wrong!).
> 
> There will be a version with Mary being the living Parker as well, and it won't be exactly the same as this one.

He gets the news in the middle of a board meeting.

And, okay, Tony knows they haven’t exactly been the closest of friends since MIT, what with their own lives consuming them into the monotony of meetings and paperwork, but he keeps tabs on his friends as much as he can. Which is why it’s such a shock when he gets news of Mary’s death from JARVIS’ media filters. No note, no message from anyone.

Tony supposes he shouldn’t be so surprised, what with life getting so busy that the last time he actually saw Mary was at her wedding to one Richard Parker.

He fidgets and taps and scratches his way through this last board meeting not unlike how he always does, keeping it down low so he doesn’t piss off his assistant. He’ll sit through this last one if it means getting that off his table and focusing on what’s more important for the next few weeks. Not-real god knows it’s what little he can do for a friend so close to him.

Over the course of the meeting, he finds out Mary eventually did make a big splash in bioengineering and was on her way to an international conference as a keynote speaker when an unexpected tragedy struck the flight she was on. One among thousands, other passengers who were on their way to a vacation, or a meeting, or moving on to greener pastures.

He drowns his sorrows later in an amber liquid-filled glass, letting himself grieve for a friend he regrets not reconnecting with.

For once, the adage “Stark men are made of iron” is a draw of strength rather of hindrance, steeling himself for a long night of research and reflection. He bucks up with a sniff, downs the last of his glass, and gets to work.

* * *

Tony manages to track down Richard's location in some property under a fake name in New York state, goes there himself in a discreet car. Tony had his knuckles tight on the steering wheel while Happy leant snoring on the window of the passenger seat. It had been raining the day they went, getting there later than expected.

The sky is dark and murky when Tony makes his way up to the front door. There’s one moment where he hesitates pressing the doorbell, like he’s at the precipice of some turning point, something big, his subconscious asking him if he’s really sure. He hopes the firm press is a loud enough answer. He takes refuge under the awning of the Parker doorstep—because geniuses like him don’t think about trivial things like _umbrellas, goddammit_—waiting for someone to answer.

The door cracks open partway, revealing a sliver of a man Tony's only really seen during the wedding reception. “Yes?"

"Richard Parker?" Tony ventures. He senses it before it happens, but the door tries to close and Tony has to stop it with the tip of his shoe. "I'm Tony Stark. a good friend of Mary's," _one of the few friends I actually ha- had_, his thoughts remind him unkindly. “I’m here because I want to help."

There’s a tense few moments of no response, but the pressure on his foot doesn't get any worse, so Tony thinks this'll turn out well. Without a lawsuit, whatever, same thing.

Like an exhale, the door opens a bit wider and Richard really does look worse for wear. Bags under his eyes, fatigue lining his body. “Please don't make me regret this decision, Mr. Stark," Richard says, looking at him dead in the eye, looking every inch the desperate and paranoid man on the run that he is.

“Call me Tony," Tony transitions smoothly, recognizing that this is another one of those times where he’ll have to make stuff up as he goes along. “May I come in?"

* * *

They end up sitting across each other on the rickety dining room table, the offer of beverage waved away. Richard does take a moment to get coffee for himself. Tony doesn't blame the man, not when his living conditions were less than ideal and a cup of joe could ease some nerves. From the state of the place, Tony has a strong feeling it could get even worse if he didn’t intervene.

_You can’t save everyone, Tony_, his internal voice that sounds all too much like Mary chides him.

“Despite what some weird tabloids and offbeat internet forums claim, the amount of drugs and alcohol I took in my youth didn’t give me freaky mind-reading powers,” Tony confesses, hands steepled and pressed against his lips. “What do you need?"

“Protection," Richard says, immediate and firm. “I can always find work, earn my keep, but it's hard to do when we- I need to keep eyes on the back of my head." Tony notes the pronoun slip, wondering the implications.

"i can do that," Tony nods slowly, contemplating the idea. “And whereabouts will you be staying? You can't tell me this place was built to be more than a temporary safehouse.”

“Not all of us can afford our own mansions, Mr. Stark," Richard replies, grip tight on the mug handle.

“Not saying that," Tony waves a hand, huffing at the referral. "I'm just saying, you and your companion might need more than a rickety two-story that could fall down from one huff-puff from the big bad wolf."

Richard opens his mouth to protest, but then a quiet voice interrupts their discussion. “Dad?”

Tony pauses, _Mary never said anything about a kid._ They both turn to the source of the sound. A little boy at the foot of the stairs, his eyes half-lidded and yawning. “Hey champ,” Richard says. “What’re you doing up?”

“Heard stuff,” the little boy replies, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Richard gestures him over. “Want to stay here with dad until he wraps up his meeting?”

The boy freezes at the sight of Tony before nodding and moving to sit on Richard’s lap. The kid’s so tiny that Tony absently wonders if there’s some kind of deficit or genetic thing going on.

“Sorry, where are my manners?” Richard continues, gesturing to his son. “This is my son, Peter. Peter, this is one of mom’s friends, Mr. Tony Stark,” Peter’s eyes widen and he gets even shyer, shrinking into his dad’s lap. “c’mon, say hi.”

“Hi Mr. Stark,” Peter waves timidly.

“Please call me Tony,” he offers with a smile of his own. “I’m here to help you and your dad out and keep you guys safe,” he glances at Richard before looking back towards Peter. “I wish we could’ve met in better circumstances, but I suppose it’s better late than never.”

Peter hesitates, looking at his dad for guidance. Tony flicks his gaze towards Richard before moving to reassure the pair. Imagine how hard it must be to have lost a mom and wife and now being on the run from god knows what. “I know I’m basically a complete stranger to you and your dad, and it’s right for you not to trust me right away, but I want you guys to give me a chance.”

Tony sniffs sharply. “Mary, your mom, was a very near and dear friend to me. She’s pulled me out of trouble more times than I can count, and I got into a _lot_ of trouble,” Peter giggles at that, and Tony takes that as a sign to keep going. He proffers a hand for Peter to reach for.“So I’ll do anything within my power to help you guys out. Not just because of my connection to your mom, but because you guys are good people, and I don’t like seeing good people struggle.”

He continues his little filibuster. “I think you guys have a good idea of who I am and what I can do,” Tony nods in Peter’s direction. “I came here with a car and my driver, both trustworthy things on and off the road. Mary opened her doors to a 15-year-old who was too young and too rowdy to be in MIT, so now my doors are open to you guys. To anything you need, for as long as you need it.”

“You sure drive a hard bargain, Mr. Stark,” Richard comments, corner of his mouth tilted to a plaintive half-smile.

“I mean, if you’re accepting it, you shouldn’t be tossing around formalities like ‘Mr. Stark’ anymore. That’s my old man, he’s the stickler for titles and rules. I’m just here to help out,” Tony says with a shrug. “So, are you guys in?”

There’s a few tense moments, the only sound the heavy rain beating down and the buzz of fluorescent lamp bulbs.

Then Peter places his hand into Tony’s palm. Tony’s gaze flicks up, sees a toothy grin spread on Peter’s face. “Okay… Tony,” he nods.

Tony can’t help but smile in return. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.”


End file.
